


Portals and Playmates: Extended Edition

by SaintDionysus



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Co-workers, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Engagement, F/F, F/M, Multi, Sex, Smut, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 06:58:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10736520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDionysus/pseuds/SaintDionysus
Summary: Late night shenanigans in the Department of Mysteries accidentally lead Hermione Granger and Theodore Nott to the land of Ice and Fire.Changes in extended edition: More of Theo and Hermione being smart, more Tyrion banter, more sexy.AWARDS/NOMINATIONS:Hermione's Haven Awards 2018Runner Up for Best Crossover for Portals and PlaymatesHUGE Thank you toMrBenzedrine89for going above and beyond beta duties and editing this story not once, but twice.





	Portals and Playmates: Extended Edition

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Portals and Playmates: Fest Edition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594533) by [SaintDionysus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDionysus/pseuds/SaintDionysus). 



 

* * *

The day has been long and exhausting, and almost everyone has left the Ministry for the comforts of their homes—all except two of the hardest working junior members of the Department of Mysteries, Hermione Granger and Theodore Nott. Plates of half-eaten sandwiches and multiple mugs of tea scatter the table amongst ancient tomes and file folders. The Gryffindor know-it-all and pensive Slytherin bookworm sit, sifting through reports of magical portals opening up around Britain long into the night. They’re exhausted and have clearly lost interest in their work. Under the table, she rubs her foot playfully against his leg as his left hand massages her thigh, slowly creeping its way up her skirt.

Theo looks up from his book and sees Hermione staring down at the papers, biting her lip as she tries to hide her smile. His fingertips have now reached the elastic hem of her knickers, and he feels the heat and wetness radiating off her skin. Her curls are pulled up into a haphazardly tied knot held together with a pencil. He would be relentlessly mocked in his pure-blood circle, but Theo loves when Hermione spoils him with muggle office supplies—pencils, erasers, pens, highlighters, and sticky notes. Their shared love of organization and academia is laughable to most, but it’s a silly trait they find endearing about each other. 

Theo looks down at his watch and back to his fianceé. Her bare neck is just too enticing that he just can’t help but put his mouth on it. His kisses are soft, and his tongue gently laps at her skin. She moans softly, relishing in the distraction and tilts her head, urging him to lovingly kiss every inch of her. 

He gently nips at her earlobe and whispers, “Happy Anniversary, my love.”

“Is it midnight already?” she mewls as she feels his fingers push past the fabric and slip into her wet folds. 

“That it is.” His mouth finally meets hers and tastes her greedily, continuing to pump his fingers and hoping she would get the hint save their research for another day.

She breaks the kiss and looks him in the eyes. “Mmm. Two years together. Sick of me yet?”  

“Not on your life.” He pulls his fingers out of her and licks them clean, much to her disappointment. Suggestively he asks, “So, we ready to call it a night? I know of a very comfortable bed with a down comforter and our names on it. Not to mention a few surprises I have in store.”

“ _ Nott-y _ boy, Theo. Naughty boy, indeed. But I think we need to take advantage of this empty office. I mean, there are a few more corners and secret rooms we haven’t done anything in yet…”

Theo raises an eyebrow and grins. He scoops her out of her chair. Cradling her in his arms, he asks, “Where to,  _ my lady _ ?” 

Hermione chuckles. “All those medieval texts we’ve been reading must be getting to you. Come,  _ my lord _ .” 

She drags him down the corridor and passes door after door. “Done it in there, that one too, oh, that one was fun with the antigravity.” 

“Hermione, I think we have done it in every room that won’t kill us,” Theo laughs. “Come here.” He pulls her in close and presses her up against the wall. His lips meet hers with determination as he pulls her skirt up. 

“Mmm...Theo,” she moans as she feels him harden against her. Her hand reaches toward a door knob for support. 

Theo’s eyes double in size as they follow her movements. His mouth pulls away from hers and blurts, “Hermione, no! Not that door!”

Her hand slips, unlocking the heavy, wooden door. Before she realizes what happened, it flies open, sucking the two of them through in a blaze of white light. 

 

Sunlight beats on their faces as a cacophony of crows and seagulls pierce their ears. Hermione is the first to wake and rubs the back of her head and neck. As her eyes adjust, she calls, “Theo? Where are you?” 

“Hermione? I’m here. Ugh, my arse. Are you alright?” He follows her voice.

“I think I hit my head, and my wrist hurts a bit,” she replie,s showing Theo her injuries.  

He takes out his wand and casts a few healing spells. “I swear, you're so clumsy. I’m going to be a fully-fledged Healer soon.”

“I’m clumsy? Who fell off the library ladder today?” she says teasingly.

“You’re right. Our children are doomed.” He kisses her on the top of the head then says, “Love, I told you not to open that door.”

“I’m sorry, it was an accident. Where are we?” she asks reaching over to brush the dust off his face. 

Looking around at the red stone architecture with its tall spires and sturdy walls, he says, “I think we are in a castle or fortress. But when or what realm, I can’t be sure.”

Panicked, she asks, “What do you mean, ‘when or what realm?’”

“Lewis and Martin were able to contain one of the portals. They almost fell through themselves. It took a lot of creative containment spells to bring it back to the department,” he explains. 

Hermione looks around to see if she can still find the portal. “ _ Portum Revelio _ .” Thankful their magic isn't affected in a different realm, she looks up and sees their passage home, glowing red above them. She casts a spell so that the portal continues to pulse red as a homing beacon. Afraid that it will draw attention, she also casts muggle repellent charms so that only she and Theo can see it.

“Of course, it has to be out of reach. Looks like we need to find brooms or something we can enchant to levitate us to the portal. At least we have our magic.” He takes her by the hand, and they set off, wands at the ready. Being in the fortified castle puts them on high alert. Tall walls usually mean armed guards must be near.  

“The building looks almost Moorish. Do you think we could be in Spain, or Tunisia, or maybe even Malta?” she asks, observing her surroundings. 

“I thought the same thing, but I saw a sign. I didn’t recognize the writing as anything earthly, ancient, or modern. I hate to say it, Hermione, but I think we are in another realm,” he says hesitantly.

Slowly, they turn the corner and find themselves in a large courtyard, greeted by seven knights clad in gold armor and white cloaks. Hermione releases Theo’s hand, and the two take a defensive stance. The tallest knight walks up to them, sword drawn, and they swallow hard. It’s been quite a while since the two of them have been out in the field. She just hopes they aren’t too rusty. 

The knight removes its helmet, revealing a woman—a _ very _ _ tall _ woman. She raises her sword inches from Theo’s neck and authoritatively states, “I’m Lady Commander Brienne of Tarth, head of the Queensguard. How did you get into the Red Keep and so close to the royal quarters? Speak. If you don’t answer clearly and concisely, I will cut you immediately.”

“We fell through a magical portal!” Hermione exclaims but clasps her hand over her mouth, realizing she was not addressed. 

The Lady Commander drops her weapon as curiosity overcomes her. “A magical portal?” 

Putting on his most aristocratic demeanor, Theo says, “A gateway. We—We’re from another realm.”

“And you speak The Common Tongue?” The knight asks. 

“Yes, Lady Commander,” Hermione responds, picking up on the shift in Theo’s attitude. She’s spent enough time around purebloods and reading ancient texts to realize when and where titles are important. But the realization they speak English in this land now has Hermione's head swirling with theories.

The knight quirks her eyebrow at the disheveled, curly-haired woman before her, impressed with her manners. “You mentioned magic. Are you a priest and priestess of the Lord of Light?”

“A witch and wizard, actually,” Hermione replies casually. 

“Prove it,” Brienne demands. “We have charlatans on every street corner. If you display real magic, I will grant you an audience with the Queen. If you don’t, I’ll strike you down right here.” 

Theo grabs Hermione by the arms and looks her in the eye. “We are going to have to show her dueling. Any muggle illusionist can put on a levitation or disappearing act. She’s a warrior; if she thinks we are too, we’ll have her respect.” 

“Resourceful and cunning as ever.” Pride and confidence well in her chest as she admires his level-headedness. She kisses him and takes ten paces. “Stand back,” she instructs the Knights.

“ _ Stupefy! _ ” Hermione casts the first spell, which Theo easily deflects. Streaks of white and red magic bursts from their wands impressing the bystanders, but the spellcasting doesn’t last long. Loud flapping distracts Hermione and Theo—large winged beasts cast shadows and circle overhead. Two dragons circle above, drawn to the surge of magic. The winged beasts descend—a black one lands facing Hermione and a smaller before Theo. She watches, cautiously aware of dragons’ unpredictable nature. To her surprise, they bow in submission. Theo and Hermione  bow in mutual respect to the creatures and pet them affectionately. 

“You. The dragons. They came to you. They only do that for their mother.” The knight realizes the trial is over and must bring the two intruders to the Queen. 

 

“Now tell me again how you thought Care of Magical Creatures was a waste of time?” Hermione says smugly, following the tall knight.

“Hush you,” he says as takes her hand to his lips, thankful they are still alive. 

The knights escort them down the halls past tapestries, suits of armor, and the glaring looks of richly dressed ladies-in-waiting and leather and armor clad soldiers. Looking painfully out of place in their foreign clothing and robes, Theo and Hermione hold their heads high despite the underlying fear.

As the two gargantuan bronze and wood doors open, they are amazed by the impressive sight. Opulent does not properly describe the throne room. It’s cavernous, even larger than the Ministry Atrium with ceilings just as tall. They do their best not to look awestruck as they walk past massive arches and columns that line the marble path, but they find it difficult. Even after all their years surrounded by magic, this palace is unlike anything they have ever seen—it feels ancient, but the red and black tapestries hanging above them appear new, very new.

“Theo,” Hermione whispers, “what have we gotten ourselves into?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll get through it together. We still have our magic, and they haven’t taken our wands,” he reassures her. 

The Queen comes into view, and her beauty is stunning, dazzling even. She radiates a sense of confidence through violet eyes that would put all of Gryffindor House to shame. Her body is lithe with defined muscles. Atop her head, intricate braids act as a base for her delicate golden crown, while the rest of her long, silvery blonde waist-length hair cascades down her back. The imposing throne appears to be hundreds of swords forged together. How the Queen can look so regal and comfortable sitting upon the seat is beyond comprehension. 

To the Queen’s right sits a little man who clearly of high birth. Small in stature, his poise and intense eyes are that of a man who knows things. The man to the Queen’s left is young, handsome, but guarded. The way he looks down at Hermione makes her uncomfortable.

The knight stops and kneels before her Queen, “My Queen. This sorcerer and sorceress fell through a magical gateway. There is something else, Your Grace,” she looks back at the foreigners then back to her Queen, “Viserion and Drogon came down from the skies and submitted to them.”

“I see.” A look of shock and intrigue appear on her face. She waves her guards to the sides and stands to greet her guests. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons.”

Under his breath, Theo says as he bows, “That’s some title.” Hermione stifles a laugh as she curtsies.

Not noticing Theo’s quip, she introduces the men, “This is my most trusted advisor, The Hand of the Queen, Lord Tyrion Lannister.” The little man nods his head, and they all turn their attention to the other man. “This is my nephew, Warden of The North, Lord John Stark-Targaryen. Now that we have made all our formal introductions, please, tell us your names.”   

Theo walks forward and stands up as straight as he can, “Theodore Alastair Cantankerus Nott the Third, pure-blood wizard and Unspeakable.”

Hermione gives him a look that could only be summed up as,  _ oh, please _ . “Hermione Jean Granger, muggle-born witch, also an Unspeakable.”

“Cantankerous, eh? It seems as though your family has a sense of humor, Wizard,” Tyrion quips.

“Lord Tyrion, I wish that were the case, but my grandfather took the name a bit too literally and was a cranky old sod,” Theo jokes, appealing to the man’s jovial nature. 

“Well your cantankerous grandfather would have gotten on splendidly with my self-righteous father,” the man smirks and looks over to Jon, who seems to be more uncomfortable in his seat than Daenerys. “Jon, is there something you would like to say to our guests?”

“I don’t trust magicians. Anyone who can revive the dead cannot be trusted,” he says staring Hermione straight in the eye. It’s as though his distrust lies with women who possess magical abilities. 

Hermione senses the tension in the air. “I’m sorry, my Lord, whatever issues you may have with magic, you needn’t worry. Where we come from, magic has limitations. We cannot bring back the dead—well, not fully. That type of dark magic can only revive fragments—broken souls and empty carcasses. Most witches and wizards are incapable of performing such deplorable acts as it takes an incredibly high level of ability, and it taints your soul and magic.” 

Jon grows pensive ruminating, over her words: _ fragments, broken souls, _ and  _ empty carcasses _ .

Theo looks at Hermione with a slight fear behind his eyes, wondering if they have said too much. He swallows hard and reaches for her hand. 

Tyrion, not one for pregnant pauses, diffuses the situation. “Don’t mind Jon. He’s more a man of action than words. More comfortable cutting down a brutish man that speaking to a woman of intelligence and grace. Isn’t that right, Jon? - He prefers them a bit rough around the edges and oh, what’s the word?  _ Wild.” _

“ _ Hmph _ ,” Jon huffs refusing to acknowledge Lord Tyrion’s jab. 

“Now,” Tyrion continues, “tell me about Unspeakables, Purebloods, and Muggleborns. These are terms we are not familiar with here in Westeros.”

Daenerys quirks her eyebrow. “Yes. I, too, am eager to hear more about what it is you do with your magic and how it is attained.”

“I can start with what an Unspeakable is,” Theo chimes in. “Hermione and I investigate and solve magical mysteries—what they are, what caused them, has this happened before, and how to solve them. We’re part scholars and field researchers.” 

“Now, that is fascinating,” Tyrion speaks up. “I am assuming by your body language that you and Witch Hermione are together.”

“Engaged, er, betrothed. We are to wed in six months.” Hermione realizes time may be different here, “or about one-hundred eighty days our time.”

Curious, the Queen asks, “Why are your betrothals so long?”

Hermione and Theo look at each other and laugh, knowing how stressful wedding planning is. Not wanting to offend royalty, Theo speaks up. “Your Grace, in our land, we choose our spouses. Sometimes it can take years and failed relationships to find that special person. Then there is the issue of finding where and when you would like to get married, and who you want there. It can be a bit much when your career or trade demands so much of you, but it is made sweeter when your partner at work is also your partner in life.”

Daenerys smiles and says, “Well, your marriage seems as though it will be one built on one trust and cooperation.” 

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Hermione says, beaming at Theo. 

“An intellectual equal, well-spoken, and beautiful to boot. How did you get so lucky, Wizard Theodore?” Tyrion flashes a smile and a wink at Hermione.

“Now don’t you make eyes at my lady,” Theo jokes. “Right place, right time, and excellent taste in tea.” 

Hermione reminisces fondly, recalling the beginnings of their relationship, and gives Theo a knowing look.

“Ah, well, I am fortune’s fool, as I have terrible timing and only drink wine,” Tyrion sighs. “Now, my lady, as wonderfully distracting your looks are, I believe I had more questions.”   

Hermione blushes. “Thank you for your kind words, Lord Tyrion. You asked about how our magic is derived and what pureblood and Muggleborn mean. Well, Theo comes from a long line of witches and wizards. Everyone born or married into the family has magical abilities, which is where the term pureblood comes from. It’s quite the ostentatious term, but it has been around for centuries.”

Theo rolls his eyes and continues, “Hermione is a muggleborn. Neither of her parents possesses magic, but it showed up in her. There is a rare occurrence in pureblood families when a child is born without magic. Usually, they end up joining the non-magical, or Muggle, world. The magic can stay dormant for generations and show up suddenly, as in Hermione’s case. It took some looking into, but we found her magical descendancy four generations back.”

“Your magic is hereditary?” The Queen’s interest is piqued, and there is excitement in her voice. “So, magic can be hidden in a family line for generations, centuries even?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Hermione says curiously. 

“I want to know all about familial magic. Missandei?” The Queen calls for one of her ladies in waiting. “Please take our guests to freshen up. They look as though they have taken quite the tumble.” She smiles and gives them once over with a gaze that looks almost seductive. “Then put them in finery befitting honored guests and take them to my chambers. I’d like to have a private conversation with Theodore and Hermione.”

“Dany,” Jon calls to her affectionately, “is that wise?”

Tyrion just laughs, knowing what she is capable of and what she truly has in mind.

“Jon, Grey Worm will be outside my door, and I have a balcony in which my dragons can land and come to my aid. I’ll be fine,” she reassures him, albeit annoyed at his overprotective behavior.

 

Theo is the first to arrive, clad in all black. The fitted leather trousers and leather jacket with green and silver embroidery are a bit too warm for his taste with it being Spring. But, he has to admit, the tailoring and craftsmanship is impeccable, and the way the fabric feels against his body gives him a certain swagger. 

Hermione walks in next with her hair intricately braided and donning a flowy golden gown with a plunging neckline and even lower back. The dress is so revealing that one wrong move would expose everything underneath the fabric. She would never wear anything like this at home, but as the saying goes, ‘When in Rome…’  

Theo wolf whistles astounded at how stunning she looks. His eyes drink her curves, soft skin that begs to be touched, bounce of her unbound breasts, and sway of her hips as she walks toward him. 

She, too, is impressed with what the servants provided for him. Gone are the baggy robes, instead, tight leather hugging his lean, yet masculine frame. She absentmindedly bites the tip of her forefinger and rubs it against her bottom lip. Finally alone, seeing him like this, stirs something that reminds her of their unfinished business. Her finger curls, calling him over. 

Theo can never resist her when she gets into playful moods like this. They’ve talked about role play before, and today might be the the perfect opportunity to play  _ Nobles and Knights _ . He grabs her by the waist and pulls her so close to him so that she can feel his hardened cock straining against the leather through the layers of silky, gauzy fabric. 

“Would my lady like to unsheath my sword?” he jokes with a sexy drawl.

“Are you saying that your hardened steel is ready for battle?”

“It could use a little polishing first.”

She chuckles softly as her lips gently brush his.“Mmm. As much as I want you to take me right here and now, I think we need to wait for the Queen. By the look she gave us and the pampering, I don’t think she just wants to talk about magic.”

“Oh, you picked up on that, too?”

“It has been quite some time since we’ve had a playmate, and she has this sexy confidence,” Hermione runs her finger up and down the buttons of his jacket, so tempted to unlatch them. “Our last playmate was more for me; I think it’s your turn.”

“Uh, huh. Are you sure this is for me? Because I’m starting to think you have a thing for blonds and dragons,” he quips.

“Maybe...but if she suggests?”

“We say yes. We can’t deny royalty, can we?”

“No. That would be rude, and we may end up with our heads on stakes.”

“Or burned by dragons.”  

“What did you say about being burned by dragons, Wizard?” Daenerys strolls into the room with one of her handmaidens following behind, ready to remove her cloak and crown.

Hermione and Theo release their embrace and bow. 

“Just a joke, Your Grace,” Theo explains. “Hermione and I just want to make sure we don’t do anything to offend.”

She smiles as her servant now has her stripped down to a similar lightweight gown as Hermione. Her body glides into a lounge chair and motions for her guests to take a seat, dismissing the handmaiden. “It’s alright. I can take a joke. I apologize for all the formalities in the throne room. My Hand is much more comfortable being himself in all situations, but I am still adjusting to ruling and try to act as regal as possible.”

Hermione’s suspicions about the tapestries are confirmed and is careful how she proceeds. “You  _ recently _ ascended to the throne?”

Daenerys sighs, “Yes. My father was usurped before I was born. The entire royal family, including my eldest brother and next in line, were slaughtered, except myself, my other brother, and my mother. She died shortly after childbirth. It took many years and alliances to reclaim my throne.” Daenerys pauses for a moment to think. “But I don’t want to talk about war and politics. I need to know of magic. We have maesters who have studied the higher mysteries, but none can wield magic casually or without assistance from the gods. You say your magic is in your blood?”

“Family magic, especially from a loving family, is some of the strongest magic in our world. It is also the most reliable when predicting magical lineage.” Theo continues to explain, “But incredibly gifted and powerful witches and wizards can be born into non-magical families, although,  there is a theory that Muggleborns are not random occurrences.”

Hermione further explains, “We are doing research into blood to determine the marker that establishes magic. Much like families that all have green eyes—”

“—Or silver hair?” Daenerys states understanding the concept.

“Correct,” Hermione confirms.

“My interest in this matter lies in the fact that my dragons are the first living dragons hatched in over two hundred years. I received petrified dragon eggs as a wedding gift. As I lit my husband’s funeral pyre, the flames engulfed myself and the eggs, and we were born of fire,” she says proudly. Though her magic may not be diverse or practical, it is rare and led her to victory. 

“Fascinating,”  Hermione replies. “In our world, dragons are rare, but not extinct. They’re kept in sanctuaries to keep the creatures safe and populations manageable. You see, many consider dragons dangerous, thus kept separate from the Muggle populous. Our trainers are quite skilled in disillusionment, riding, and pacifying the animals.”

“That sounds like a blessing. I have had nothing but instinct guiding me.” She looks over, and notices the gentle sheen of sweat radiating off of Hermione and Theo. Her chambers are kept warm, maybe a bit too warm for her the witch and wizard.

“Your Grace,” Theo interjects. 

“You may call me Daenerys or Dany, if you prefer.” Her body relaxes as she toys with the fabric on her shoulder.

“Then you may call us Theo and Hermione. Daenerys, you mentioned being born of fire. Are you telling us you are impervious to burns?” Theo asks.

“That I am. Please, both of you. Come closer. I want to see your magic.”

They do as she says, and display all manner of spells. All the while, the Queen walks around them and playfully drags her fingers down their wand arms, occasionally stopping to stand behind them so they can feel her breath on their necks. Daenerys can feel their magic emanating from their very being. She’s not sure if the witch and wizard are trying to seduce her, or if she just intoxicated by their essence. They are in love, share a bond, are powerful and intelligent—a concoction of all she craves in this world.

“That was an impressive display of magic. Now it’s time to show you mine. Burn my clothes off,” she demands.

“Are you sure, Daenerys?” Hermione asks. 

“Are you asking if I’m sure if I want to be burned, or if I’m sure that I want to lay with you and your betrothed?” she asks cheekily. 

“Both,” Hermione responds with a mischievous smile.

Dany slides her hand on the side of Hermione’s face and kisses her gently. Hermione slips her tongue into the Queen’s mouth, making her moan in approval. The kisses between the women are languid as when you are royal; you rush nothing. The Queen reaches for the back of Theo’s neck with her other hand, pulls away from Hermione, and takes his mouth next. Hermione, not one to be left out, kisses Daenerys’ neck, pulling down her dress exposing her pert breasts. While Theo and Daenerys’ kisses grow more passionate, he uses wandless magic to make both the women’s dresses drop. 

“That’s not fair,” Daenerys says playfully. “You’re still dressed.”

“Then undress me. Both of you,” he says with a casual assertiveness. 

The women slowly undo each button while pressing their bodies to his side. Theo grabs them as they grind against his leather covered leg. They playfully unlace his trousers and shimmy them down. Hermione’s breath hitches at the sight of Theo’s freed member. She takes Dany’s hand, and they both start stroking him. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he moans in approval. Daenerys cannot recall the last time she encountered anyone who didn’t grovel at her feet. This couple is so in tune with their desires, she doesn’t feel like a third; she feels invited.

With Theo’s clothes now on the floor, Daenerys takes them by the hands to her massive bed. This bed could host an orgy of at least eight but will do just fine for a ménage à trois. Hermione instructs Theo to lay back so she can take his cock in her mouth. Daenerys rubs her nub and plunges her fingers in and out of her core while watching the performance. Hermione’s tongue looks so skilled swirling around Theo’s perfectly pink head—the way she licks up and down the shaft is mesmerizing. When Hermione makes his full length disappear down her throat, the Queen thinks it must be a work of magic.   

Theo grunts and moans as he feels himself balls deep inside Hermione’s mouth, but he wants more. He calls Daenerys over and says, “Face Hermione and let me lick your cunt. Baby, sit on my cock and play with Dany.”

“You’re so fucking sexy when you tell me what to do,” Hermione says before kissing him and lowering herself onto the glistening member. She gasps as he fills and stretches her walls.

“Do you two always speak so openly when you make love?” Daenerys asks as she crawls to Theo. 

“Of course. How else are we going to know what each other wants?” Theo is acting as if dirty talk is the most natural thing in the world. “Now let me taste  _ your grace _ .”

Ever in unison, Theo plunges his tongue into her wet heat as Hermione crashes onto her mouth. Hermione rocks her hips slowly while massaging Dany’s tits and pinching her nipples. Feeling Theo inside of her makes everything, except raw passion, disappear. 

Theo’s tongue and fingers work in unison licking the Queen’s lips and clit while thrusting his fingers inside of her. Theo inhales the aroma of the two women pleasing him. His bride-to-be smells of home and everything right in the world—books, roses, clean laundry, and tea with milk. The woman grinding her pussy on his face smells of exotic oils and intrigue. Together, their scent is is alluring and makes him crave more.

This is not her first threesome, but being with these two is a new sensation. They guide her through different positions. Dany is having trouble keeping her balance as her senses drive her wild. She enjoys Theo’s forcefulness as he pounds her from behind and feeling Hermione writhe as her tongue flicks against the witch’s tiny bundle of nerves. Every ministration is delicious, causing waves to ripple through their bodies. 

As Theo spoons Hermione, her fingers are deep inside of Dany with the pad of her thumb gently rubbing against the Queen’s clitoris. Daenerys wraps her arms around both of them, pulling the triad into an even closer embrace. There is an intimacy in this movement, unlike the others that cause a tear to trickle down her face. She feels their love, trust, and connection—emotions she has not felt with anyone in a long time. Being with Hermione and Theo make her realize she wants, no,  _ needs _ that. Her quest for power has prevented her from attaining love. But no longer. She will have love. 

Theo’s increased thrusting signal he is reaching his climax. As he fills Hermione with his seed, she clenches her walls around him, coming with him. Her fingers change pace and angle, and not long after, Daenerys feels the pleasure of orgasm. 

As the three lay on the massive mattress, sated, covered in sweat and sex, Dany says, “Stay. Both of you. My kingdom needs light magic. I could make you both members of my High Council.”

The couple stares into each other's eyes and communicate without words. 

Hermione starts, “Daenerys, our world needs us. Like here, they are also rebuilding from war. Our work is important—”

“But we’ll come back and with dragon experts and specialists in different fields of magic,” Theo chimes in, not wanting to upset Daenerys.

“You promise? And these experts, are they as adventurous as you two are?” She asks playfully.

Hermione giggles, “Well, our dragon trainer friend ruggedly handsome and is unattached.”

“And our potions master friend, you will find you have a lot in common with—rebuilding a fallen family legacy, fair features, swings both ways…” Theo casts a furtive glance Hermione’s way, to which she shakes her head and sighs at this comment. 

“Well, I look forward to your return and meeting your friends. Can you stay just a bit longer? Some sleep and maybe a meal?” 

Her gentle pleas are much too convincing, and Hermione responds, “Yes. We’ll stay for a bit longer. Besides, we’ll need your dragon to get back to the portal.”

“Excellent,” she responds cheerfully. 

Theo pulls the women closer, kissing each before they nuzzle their faces into his chest and fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my first crossover fic. It was a lot of fun playing with characters from two of my favorite fandoms. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave review or send an ask to my [Tumblr](https://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com/).
> 
> <3 SaintDionysus


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